Happy Birthday, Keith Partridge
by Cassidy McKenzie
Summary: Keith's 18th birthday is full of surprises, and...well, just read it and find out!
1. Default Chapter

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KEITH PARTRIDGE  
Part 1  
  
It was early morning on April 12th, and five out of six Partridges were already up and moving. It took a long time to decorate for a party; after all, it was Keith's eighteenth birthday and things had to be just right. Laurie and Shirley hung a huge banner that read "Happy 18th, Keith" in the living room. Chris and Tracy blew up several dozen balloons and Danny tied them off, attaching them to everything he could think of. There were streamers and confetti…making Shirley's once neat living room look like a tickertape parade had just been by.  
  
"Think he suspects anything?" Laurie stood on her tiptoes on the stepladder.  
  
"I don't think so. He was pretty adamant about not having a party and I think we did a good enough acting job to make him think we listened. Personally, I think he would be hurt if we didn't come through with something. I mean, how many times do you turn eighteen?" Shirley smiled.  
  
"Yeah. I can hardly wait 'til he sees the motorcycle!" Chris grinned.  
  
"Me, too," Danny agreed. "I can't believe you actually gave in, Mom."  
  
"Well, he's earned it. He's never once gotten a ticket in the car; he's been very responsible. I will tell you that I'm not thrilled with the idea of my son careening around town on a motorcycle, but I know I can trust him." Shirley and Laurie climbed down off their pedestals, stepping back to look at their work.  
  
"Is it hanging straight, gang?" Laurie wanted to know.  
  
"Perfect!" Danny nodded.  
  
"Good. Let's go get the birthday boy up."  
Everyone headed for the kitchen, where Shirley had prepared an elaborate breakfast in bed for him. The tray was loaded with buttered toast, strawberry waffles - with whipped cream, thank you very much -, and a tall glass of orange juice.  
  
Shirley picked up the tray, leading the rest of them up the stairs.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Keith was on his stomach in the bed, the covers helter-skelter around his legs as the Partridges entered quietly. He faced the window, his head down on the mattress. The pillows were pushed to one side and he looked dead to the world.  
  
Laurie crept around the bed, doing her best not to giggle. "Aw, he looks so cute…it's a shame to wake him up," she whispered.  
  
"Yeah…let's do it." Danny's voice was more mischievous than usual.  
  
Laurie raised her arms like a bandleader.  
  
'HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR KEEEEEEITH…HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!'  
  
The song, loud, screeching and deliberately off-key rang through the room.  
  
Keith opened one eye, seemingly unimpressed. "Mmmph," he grunted.  
  
Laurie reached down, shaking his shoulder. "Come on, birthday boy…time to get up!"  
  
He lifted his head, looking at her through blurry eyes. "What time is it?"  
  
"Like I said, time to get up. Or would you rather do this the hard way? The kids are just aching to bounce you up."  
  
Rolling over, he managed to get up on his elbows. "I'm up, I'm up…" His voice still reflected about four hours of lost sleep.  
  
Laurie pulled the pillows over, placing them under his back. "Here's your breakfast."  
  
Shirley leaned down, carefully placing the tray over his lap. "Happy Birthday, honey."  
  
"Thanks, Mom," he murmured, running his fingers through his hair.  
  
"It's your favorite," Danny pointed out. "Want me to feed it to you?"  
  
Keith eyed him suspiciously. "I can eat it myself, thank you." He yawned, looking down at the tray. He seemed still half-asleep as he fumbled for the utensils and the napkin. Danny pressed closer.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Keith glared. "Go away."  
  
"Come on, kids, let's let him eat. We'll see you downstairs, honey."  
  
Shirley did her best to gather them up and herd them out, smiling down at her very sleepy son.  
  
He waved at her and as she closed the door, he dropped his hands, lying back against the pillow, the tray still over him. 'Just five more minutes,' he thought. After all, it was Sunday…  
  
The door opened, startling him. It was Shirley. "Eat!" she commanded, and he forced himself to look as awake as he could get.  
  
"I'm eating, I'm eating…" he muttered, taking the fork in his hand.  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
A good hour passed before they saw Keith again. This time, he was dressed and alert as he came down the stairs. Seeing the party trimmings in the living room, he stopped. "Hey!" he cried.  
  
"Like it?" Shirley pushed a balloon out of her way.  
  
He shook his head, coming down the rest of the stairs. "I said, no party!"  
  
"Don't worry about it. We had the party without you. Everybody just left," Danny said smugly.  
  
"Why don't you go with them?" Keith shot back. "Mom, really, I just wanted to spend a quiet day at home. No fuss, no muss." He sank down onto the couch arm.  
  
"I know you did, honey, but, well, eighteen…" She crinkled her nose at him. "It's special."  
  
He smiled one of his shy smiles. "Yeah, I guess so. So when does this get together…get together?"  
  
"One o'clock. Everybody who's anybody from school will be there," Laurie said perkily.   
  
"Dina Firmly?" Keith raised his eyebrows along with his hopes.  
  
"No." Laurie's smile faded. "She had to leave town. Something about the witness protection program." To his speechlessness, Laurie laughed, poking him in the shoulder. "I'm kidding. She practically begged me to invite her."  
  
Keith looked relieved as Chris got his mother's attention. "Can we give it to him, now?"  
  
The other four looked at her eagerly as well, causing Keith to back up warily. "Give me what?"  
  
"A wedgie, what do you think?" Danny bemoaned. "Your present, you dip!"  
  
Keith smiled sheepishly. "Oh."  
  
"Yeah, Mom, can we?" Tracy tugged on Shirley's arm.  
  
Shirley sighed. "I suppose. Close your eyes, Keith."  
  
He obeyed and was surprised to find himself being propelled forward. Laurie put her hands over his eyes as a precaution. "No peeking."  
  
They took him out the door. He knew that, because it was suddenly cool and he heard the door close behind him. Then it was down the steps and another five feet before he was released.   
  
"Happy Birthday!" they chorused around him and he opened his eyes.  
  
There, like a dream in front of him, stood a brand new shiny motorcycle. A huge bow was tied to the handlebars and at first he swore he was seeing things, then reality hit.  
  
His jaw dropped. "No way!" he said as he and the bike were surrounded. He looked at Shirley, saw the hint of tears in her eyes and knew right then it was for real. "Mom?"  
  
She stepped forward, hugging him. "Happy Birthday."  
  
"But you…I…you never…"  
  
"Like I said, eighteen is special," she stroked his hair. "I just want you to promise me that you'll be careful, that you'll obey all traffic rules and show up for dinner once in a while."  
  
He grinned, kissing her cheek. "I promise," he said, touching her nose with his. "Thanks."  
  
"Let's go for a ride, Keith!" Danny's hands ran along the leather seat of the bike.  
  
Keith looked at his mother.  
  
"And no passengers!" Shirley added sternly.  
  
"Sorry, pal," Keith shook his head. "Uh…what about a helmet?"  
  
Laurie stepped forward, a big box in her hand. "This is from us kids," she said, grinning as she handed it to him.  
  
He opened the box and withdrew a metallic blue helmet. His grin got bigger. "This is so cool…thanks, you guys! I'll think of you every time I put it on."  
  
"Which will be anytime you get within 10 feet of this…monstrosity," Shirley said, and she wasn't kidding.  
  
"Okay, okay," Keith laughed. "You have my solemn word."  
  
"Take it for a trial run," Danny urged.  
  
"Yeah, Keith. Dina's really going to flip when she sees you on this. Maybe you could just drive by her house," Laurie said.  
  
Keith looked at Shirley. "Would you mind?"  
  
"Yes, but I have a feeling that you're going to ignore that, so…" Shirley answered.  
  
He leaned over, kissing her cheek and strapped on the helmet.   
  
As he straddled the bike, Shirley began calling out her instructions. "Remember, just to Dina's and back. Don't speed, and no fancy maneuvers. And please be careful. You aren't officially eighteen until 3:46 this afternoon! I want to see you make it!"  
  
She didn't know if he heard any of it. He started up the motor and pulled away from the house. Just the sight of it made Shirley's blood run cold.  
  
continued... 


	2. HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 2

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KEITH PARTRIDGE  
PART 2  
  
  
Laurie put her arm around her. "He'll be okay, mother. Dina just lives four blocks from here."  
  
"I know," Shirley swallowed. She stared apprehensively at the now-empty street before her.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Shirley was angry. He'd been gone for half an hour! Four blocks, my foot, she thought. How dare he make her worry like this? Laurie had tried to preoccupy her by getting her to bake his birthday cake, and it worked for the first ten minutes. The last twenty, she spent visualizing every possible scenario…he'd crashed into a bus and was lying under it, drawing his last breath waiting for the paramedics to come…he'd been pulled over by the police and was right now being arrested because he didn't have his license…he'd taken Dina out to the beach and flipped the bike showing off for her, injuring the both of them…she tensed up more as each minute ticked off.  
  
She was frosting the cake when she heard the motor. Dropping the knife and nearly the cake with it, she wiped her hands on her apron and hurried out the door. The other kids joined her as Keith pulled up into the driveway. There was a plastic bag hanging from the handlebar and Shirley all but ran to him, ready to give it to him good.  
  
"Keith Partridge, where have you been?!" she cried. Now she didn't know whether to hug him or slap him.  
  
He pulled off the helmet, sitting it on the seat behind him. Smiling, he handed her the bag. "Mrs. Monahan wants to know if you'll hem these slacks for her."  
  
"Mrs. Monahan?" Shirley looked surprised.  
  
He nodded. "I was coming back after my drive by of Dina's house when she flagged me down. I don't know how she knew me under the helmet, but she did. That's where I've been for the past twenty minutes." He shook his head. "That woman sure can talk."  
  
Relieved, Shirley began to laugh, going to him and hugging him.   
  
Chris and Tracy exchanged puzzled glances. "I thought Mom was mad!" Tracy said.   
  
"Yeah, but she's laughing!" Chris shrugged.  
  
"Women…go figure," Danny sighed.  
  
Laurie and Keith started for the house. Laurie nudged her brother. "So, did Dina see you?"  
  
"No, she wasn't home. At least no one was in the yard."  
  
"You're lucky. Joey usually squirts at you with the hose."  
  
Keith laughed. He remembered the first time he walked Dina home from school. Nine-year-old Joey surprised them from behind a large plum bush, drenching the both of them. Luckily it was a warm day and the cool water felt good, but Dina told him Joey got the spanking of his life that night when Mr. Firmly got home from work. "Joey…isn't coming to the party, is he?" Keith just had a horrible thought.  
  
"I don't know. It depends on whether someone will be home to watch him." Laurie grinned. "You're not…afraid of him, are you?"  
  
Keith looked defensive. "No, I'm not afraid of him." He paused. "I'm terrified of the little bugger."  
Laurie laughed at his confession.  
  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
The party was going well. A good thirty of Keith and Laurie's classmates were there, milling about, dancing or eating. To Keith's  
relief, Dina managed to leave Joey at home and Shirley packed Danny, Chris and Tracy off to the movies, so it was an older crowd, which suited Keith just fine.  
  
"Hey, Keith, is that your cycle out in the driveway?" Gordy approached Keith and Dina as they talked near the staircase.  
  
"Yeah. Groovy, huh?" Keith smiled.  
  
"The most. I was looking at one just like it at the cycle shop the other day." Gordy shook his head. "You sure are lucky. Or crazy." He nudged Keith, smiling slyly and moving away.  
  
"What did he mean by that?" Dina asked, tucking her blonde hair behind her left ear.  
  
Keith shrugged. "Who knows, with Gordy. Did Laurie tell you I drove by your house this morning?"  
"No, you did, really?" Dina's eyes sparkled. "On the bike?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
She smiled. "Did Joey get you with the hose again?"  
Keith laughed. "No. I didn't see anyone."  
  
"I think we were probably at the market. Sorry I missed the show." She moved in closer. "You can always come by again."  
  
"Oh, I will, I will," he murmured, leaning down and kissing her.  
  
When they parted, she put her arms around him. "By the way, Happy Birthday," she smiled.  
  
"It sure is," he said, once again finding her mouth with his.  
  
Someone nearby cleared their throat and Keith and Dina looked up. Laurie was standing there.  
"Time to cut the cake." She knew she was interrupting.  
  
"Later, huh?" Keith tried to wave her away.  
  
Dina took his elbow. "Better do it now."  
  
Keith frowned. "What is this, a conspiracy?"  
  
"Yes," Laurie took his other arm. The two girls moved him into the living room where the huge, beautifully decorated cake rested on the counter between the kitchen and the living room.   
  
Everyone gather around as Shirley handed him the knife. He looked at the writing done in blue icing on the chocolate background: 'HAPPY 18TH, KEITH.' "Thanks, Mom, it's great. Too nice to cut."  
  
"Cut it!" came a chorus of his friends and family's voices and he grinned, slowly lowering the knife. As it sliced through the cake, everyone cheered, and Shirley began handing out the plates, which Keith filled as fast as he could.   
  
The group took their food into the living room, but Keith took two plates for him and Dina, motioning her into the kitchen. "We can go out in the garage if you want to be alone."  
  
Her smile made his heart skip a beat. "That's the best idea you've had all day."  
  
They slipped out the back door, and Dina saw the bike sitting in the driveway.  
  
"That is a cool bike, Keith. Can I sit on it?"  
  
He shrugged. "Sure, if you want. I'd take you for a ride, but Mom would have kittens."  
  
They moved toward the cycle and Keith helped her onto it while balancing the two plates of cake in the other hand. She looked the vehicle over, her eyes dancing. He smiled. "I didn't know you were so into motorcycles."  
  
"Oh, yes. My boyfriend out in Omaha had one, and I just loved it." She looked up. "Can I see you ride it? I want to check out your form."  
  
Her words, carefully and deliberately said, made him blush. "Well, okay. I'd better tell Mom, though. I think she has a small heart attack every time she hears me start it up."  
  
Dina nodded, sliding down off the bike and taking the plates from him. He hurried back into the house and was gone only a minute. "Chee, mothers…I told her I was only going around the block and she acted like I was leaving town or something."  
  
"She worries about you, Keith, and I think it's sweet," Dina said as he put on the helmet.  
  
He climbed on just as a horde of kids came out of the house, led by Gordy. "Hey, everybody, Partridge is gonna ride his new cycle!"  
  
Embarrassed, Keith just shook his head as Dina was joined by the entire guest list. "I'll be back." He started the motor. Dina leaned over, giving him a good luck kiss and he turned the bike around, zipping out of the driveway onto the street.  
  
To Gordy's chagrin, all the girls ran forward to watch Keith as he zoomed out of sight.  
  
"He looks great, doesn't he?" Dina sighed, and every female there agreed. "I just love a guy on a motorcycle…"  
  
The boys all exchanged thoughtful glances. "Maybe we should get bikes," Gordy muttered to Skizzy and Ralph as they stood nearby.  
  
"Yeah, right. Our mothers would kill us," Ralph shook his head sadly as the girls all but swooned.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
This time, Keith had returned in almost record time, thanks to Shirley's prayers, and the party broke up soon after that. Keith walked Dina home, while Laurie and Shirley cleaned up.  
  
"Mom?" Laurie asked while drying the dishes.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you really think it was a good idea, buying Keith that bike?"  
  
At the sink next to her, Shirley took a deep breath. "I don't know. Part of me wants to take it back and the other part tells me that I'm just being paranoid. I know he wouldn't deliberately do something stupid with it, but sometimes things happen that aren't under your control." Shirley looked over at her. "Why, is there something you're not telling me?"  
  
Laurie shook her head. "No…I just wonder what it is with guys and motorcycles." She wrinkled her nose. "It seems silly to me."  
  
"Me, too. But did you see how Dina and the rest of those girls at the party acted about it? They couldn't wait to see him on the thing."  
  
"Well, part of that comes from his celebrete`, I think. They see Keith as infallible…a sort of demi-god. To them he's perfect, flawless, while we who have to live with him know better."  
  
Shirley giggled at Laurie's summary. She was right; they didn't see the 'real' Keith. There were plenty of mornings when his hair wasn't quite perfect, or he'd discovered a new blemish on his face…they didn't have to pick up after him, or see him struggle with his geometry homework, or watch him agonize over a song that wasn't quite coming out the way he'd wanted it to. Keith Partridge was far from perfect, and that's what made him so loveable.  
  
The kitchen door opened and Mr. Loveable himself stepped in. "Hi."  
  
"Hi," Shirley smiled. "You're dry. I take it Joey didn't greet the two of you again."  
  
"No," Keith sighed. He went to the fridge, taking out a carton of milk.   
  
"Doing anything tonight? Going out with Dina?"  
  
He shook his head. "Nope. She has a family party in Sacramento. I thought maybe I'd just hang with the guys at the Taco Stand or something. A couple of them want a closer look at the bike."  
  
Shirley's eyes met Laurie's, then went back to Keith. "You're riding the bike? Not after dark, honey. You're still not used to it."  
  
"Relax, Mom, it'll be before sundown. And if I lose track of time and it does get dark, I'll push it home, okay? Promise." He got a glass, pouring himself some milk.  
  
She smiled, still a little uneasy. "Well, I suppose. I'm just glad you like it."  
  
"Like it? Man, it's the grooviest present I've ever had. Thanks again." He hugged her.  
  
As he took his drink out of the room, Laurie waved her dishtowel at her mother. "If you have your doubts, now is the time to talk to him."  
  
Shirley nodded, untying her apron and following her son into the living room. "Keith, can we talk?"  
  
He stopped on his way to the staircase. "Yeah, sure, what about?" he joined her near the sofa.  
"Sit down, honey."  
  
Puzzled, he did as he was told, sipping on the milk. She joined him.  
"Keith…"  
  
He swallowed, reading her eyes. "It's about the bike, isn't it?"  
  
She nodded. "Yes."  
  
"You're not taking it away from me." It was half statement, half question.  
  
"No…it's just that…well…it frightens me."  
  
He smiled, letting that familiar dimple show. "I know. But I'm careful."  
  
"You're not the one I'm worried about. Well, you are, but…it's the other driver. The one not paying attention that could turn in front of you. The angry driver who cuts you off in traffic because he hates motorcycles. Keith, a helmet only protects your head."  
  
He reached over, putting a gentle hand on hers. "Mom, I know you're worried, but there's more of a probability of me getting hurt in gym class than on the bike."  
  
"Where did you hear that?"  
  
"The statistics are out there. Heck, I could kill myself in the bathtub sooner than I could crash on that motorcycle." He smiled sweetly. "If it makes you feel better, I'll cut out my gym class and take showers from now on." He stood up.  
  
He had her for almost a full second. "Keith Partridge, you listen, and you listen good. If you so much as fall off that motorcycle, it is going back, do you hear me?" Shirley snapped.  
  
After a moment's thought, he nodded. "Fair enough." he bent down, brushing her cheek with his lips, then sauntered upstairs.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Keith munched on a taco and watched with pride as Skizzy and Ralph checked out his bike. Gordy sat with Keith at the table, having eaten at least a dozen tacos himself.  
  
"So your mom doesn't like it much, huh?"  
  
"No…she worries a lot. You should have seen her face when I left to come here. But I think she knows I wouldn't purposely mess up on it." Keith took a sip of his root beer.  
  
"Guys sure think it's cool." Gordy indicated Ralph and Skizzy.  
  
"Girls, too," Keith added, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Dina's obsessed with it."  
  
"Yeah, and what did she think of you before you got the bike?" Gordy prodded.  
  
Keith frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Nothing. It's just that you two were on and off like a bad light switch."  
  
Keith grunted. "Jealousy doesn't become you, Gordy."  
  
"Who's jealous?" Gordy spread his hands. "I'm just telling you the truth. Let's just say that your having the bike isn't hurting your relationship."  
  
Ralph and Skizzy wandered back over to where Keith and Gordy sat. "Man, I am telling you, that is one nice piece of machinery," Ralph plopped down next to Keith.  
  
"Sure is. Maybe if I had one, Dina Firmly would be all over me, too," Skizzy agreed, nudging Keith.  
  
Keith and Gordy exchanged looks as Keith rose from the table.  
  
"Yeah, well, that won't happen in your lifetime, Skiz. Dina Firmly is mine."  
  
"Until you shed the bike," Gordy added.  
  
"Here's a thought, Gordy. Blow!" Keith pushed Gordy's head forward as Ralph and Skizzy hooted. Keith zipped up his jacket, grabbing the helmet off the table. "I'll see you derelicts in algebra tomorrow."  
  
He moved away from the table, going towards the bike. A huge low-rider was pulling into the space next to the motorcycle, narrowly missing it. Keith winced, hurrying his step as the passenger door opened on the car, colliding with the bike and sending it crashing to the ground.  
  
"Hey!" Keith cried, running forward.  
  
A couple of beefy, mean-looking men got out of the car as Keith reached the parking lot.   
  
"Got a problem, pretty boy?" The one who'd knocked over the bike stood by the hood of the car, blocking Keith's passage.  
  
"Well, yeah. That bike's brand new." Keith really didn't want trouble, but…  
  
The man looked over his shoulder. "Is it, now? Well, too bad. Looks sorta broken now."  
  
Keith was fuming as he tried to push past the man.  
  
The jerk put his hand on Keith's shoulder, stopping him. "I think you owe us an apology." He revealed tobacco-stained teeth as he spoke and reeked of beer.  
  
"For what?" Keith glanced back at his friends. They had their backs to the fracas, and Keith wasn't about to call out to them.   
  
"Your stupid motorcycle scratched our car door."  
  
"But you…" Keith began, but decided against starting anything. "Okay, I'm sorry." He said it quickly.  
  
"You'd better be," the man spat, moving aside.  
Keith pushed past him. The man gave him a hard shove in his back, causing Keith to stumble, nearly falling onto the downed motorcycle.  
  
Embarrassed and not a little angry, Keith reached down, bringing the bike up and looking it over. It didn't seem too bad off, and he leaned it back on its kickstand, put on the helmet and climbed onto it. He started up the motor, popped up the kickstand and sped off.  
  
He was in such a hurry to get out of there, he didn't notice the low rider pulling out behind him.  
  
continued... 


	3. HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 3

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 3  
  
It wasn't until Keith was halfway home before he saw trouble behind him in the mirror. 'What could they possibly want?' He'd already apologized for doing nothing. But these guys couldn't be reasoned with, that much he knew. He also knew he couldn't lead them home. His heart racing, he turned in the opposite direction of the house, glancing in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, they stayed behind him and Keith started feeling just a little panicky.  
  
  
He had to lose them somehow. Without warning, he veered down another street, trying to stay under the speed limit, but to no avail. They were soon with him. Now the race was on.  
  
Several thoughts ran through his mind. He could really speed up and hope a policeman saw him, but that was too dangerous. He could lose control. He thought of just ditching the bike in someone's yard and running on foot. Perhaps he could find a place to hide, but there was no guarantee of that. No, his only choice was to just keep driving until he lost them. It wouldn't be easy, but at least he had an advantage over the big car. He could squeeze into tight spots, down alleys, over sidewalks, between larger vehicles.  
  
Once again he checked the mirror. The car was farther back than before, but it was still there, relentless in its pursuit.  
  
He began veering onto every side street he could find until finally, he was confused as to what direction he was heading. He may have been lost, but the car wasn't. Like a growing nightmare, it remained behind him.  
  
Then Keith saw a narrow alley way. The neighborhood wasn't the greatest, it looked like, but at this point he didn't care. He sped down it, stirring up dirt as he drove, his hands tired from gripping the handlebars. In the dust behind him, he saw the car stop, unable to follow and he swallowed, letting his heart come back down out of his throat.  
  
It was then that he saw the wall.  
  
It was right in front of him, big and red, about ten feet high. Keith clenched the brakes and the bike skidded out from under him. He winced as he slid along the ground, the motorcycle going one way, and he the other, right into a huge trash dumpster. The crash was all he could hear, echoing around him and he felt pain in his left leg as he slammed into the metal container. Crying out, he rolled over.   
  
Through the thick dust, he saw two hulking figures. Them.  
  
  
He quickly pulled off the helmet, his leg searing with pain, and tried to back up against the dumpster for protection.  
  
A big hand reached down, pulling him up by his shirtfront. Keith's injured leg buckled, but the man's grip held him upright.  
  
"What…what do you want? I said I was sorry…"   
  
Keith tried to squirm away, but without leverage, he could do nothing.  
  
"I don't like the way you said it, squirt!" The beer breath was in his face and Keith closed his eyes, turning his head.  
  
The man shoved him hard against the dumpster with a clang and Keith coughed, the wind having been knocked out of him. The back of his head hit something hard and it was all he could do to stay alert.  
  
Both of the man's fists were on his chest, pushing him so hard against the container he could barely breathe. One hand moved to his head, gripping a handful of hair.  
  
"I hate pretty boys like you," the man hissed, and his other hand popped Keith in the jaw. It wasn't a hard hit, but it hurt just the same, and Keith moaned, tasting blood.  
  
Then he was shoved again, this time into a pile of boxes, but before he could hit the ground, he was pulled back up and leveled once again with a punch to the midsection. In agony, Keith cried out, doubling over and falling back down onto the boxes, where he lay huddled and crying.   
  
Silence loomed around him and Keith didn't dare move or look or anything. Then two hands yanked on him, unfolding him as it were, and he felt someone go through his jacket pockets, then his jeans, helping themselves to his wallet, then suddenly, all was calm; quiet.  
  
He opened his eyes. One of the men had picked up his bike, and was pushing it back down the alley while the other stood guard, as if Keith was going to get up and stop them from taking it. Whimpering, Keith just watched them steal it. Then he heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked.  
  
Horrified, he saw a small caliber pistol in the other man's hand, aimed directly at him. He tried to move away, trying to make himself disappear into the boxes. "Oh, god, no!" he begged.  
  
There was a crack and Keith covered his head. His right shoulder exploded into a fiery pain and he screamed, gripping it with his left hand. As he pulled his hand away, he was stunned to see how red the blood was. The world around him started spinning and he felt sick to his stomach. It was just about then when he passed out.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
He was moaning when he opened his eyes again. It was dark now, and cold. Shivering, Keith stared up at the open sky above him. He immediately discovered that he couldn't move without creating a ton of pain, so he stayed as still as he could. A noise nearby startled him and he turned his aching head in its direction. Someone was standing there, someone small, but he couldn't make out any more details. He moaned again, but the figure took off and again he was engulfed in dizziness. Then, just like a porch light, he was out.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Ta-mara Jackson saw her brother Lamar playing kickball in the dim light of the street lamp in the street just around the alley. A month shy of turning thirteen, she was pretty, dark-skinned, with huge brown eyes and thick black hair tied back into a ponytail.   
  
"Lamar, come quick. There's somebody in the alley and he's hurt!"  
  
"So?" Lamar, just as dark, was fifteen and big for his age; at least six feet tall. He looked to weigh about 200 pounds. "Probably some bum. They're always in the alley." He concentrated on his kickball game.  
  
Ta-mara shook her head. "No. This one's young. I think he's been shot!"  
  
Lamar looked interested, now. "Yeah? He dead?" He almost sounded hopeful. The other kids in the projects would be so jealous.  
  
"No! He was moaning when I came up on him, and when he moved, I ran." Ta-mara pulled on his arm. "Come on and look!"  
  
Almost reluctantly, Lamar followed his sister back to the alley. In the bright moonlight, he saw Keith lying amidst the boxes and he pulled Ta-mara back, stepping carefully toward the unconscious singer. Keith wasn't moving now, and Lamar bent down, taking his shoulder and turning Keith's still form onto its back. "Huh. A white guy," Lamar said out loud. "He's been beat up pretty bad." He looked down at his hand, smeared with blood. "You're right, 'Mara. He's been shot."  
  
"Should I get somebody?" Ta-mara braved coming a little closer.  
  
"Like who? The cops? Like they'd come around here."  
  
"Then, who? Mama's in Chicago for Grammy's funeral!" Ta-mara couldn't decide whether she was shivering from the cold or the excitement.  
  
Lamar fished through Keith's pockets for some identification. Finding none, he shook his head. "Well, we can't leave him out here, he'll die for sure. Maybe we could take him in the house, fix him up a little. Then, when he wakes up, we can find out who he is."  
  
Ta-mara's eyes widened. "What if somebody comes snooping?"  
  
"Don't worry. I'll take care of it." He easily scooped Keith up into his arms and started back for the street.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Shirley paced the floor, looking up at the cuckoo clock above the mantle. Keith had been gone for over five hours, now, and she'd called everyone she could think of trying to find him, but no one had seen him. Gordy said he'd left the Taco Stand around five-thirty, but that was the last he saw of him. Not exactly a comforting thought, Shirley decided, so she sent Laurie and Danny out on a scour of the town. And, just in case their search yielded nothing, she called Reuben. Nothing like worrying in groups.  
  
She heard the station wagon pull into the driveway and she ran to the door. Stepping out on the porch, she saw only two figures emerging from the car and her heart sank.   
  
Laurie and Danny crossed the lawn and in the porch light, they saw how worried Shirley was. "Sorry, Mom, but we looked everywhere. He's…like disappeared." Laurie's words sounded so ominous.  
  
Hearing another motor, the three of them turned their hopes to the street, but were only greeted by Reuben's car pulling up to the curb.  
  
"Shirley, what's going on? What's this about Keith?" Reuben hurried up the front walk.  
  
"He's missing," Danny blurted.   
  
"Missing, what do you mean, missing?" Reuben cried.  
  
"Let's go inside before we disturb the neighbors," Shirley said wearily.  
  
They followed her in, Reuben shutting the door. "What in tarnation is going on?"  
  
Shirley held up her hand. "Kids, you'd better get to bed. It's a school night."  
  
"You're kidding, right? My brother's disappeared and you expect me to go to sleep?" Danny cried, but Laurie grabbed his arm.  
  
"Come on, Danny. Let Mom and Reuben handle this." She forcefully pulled him toward the stairs as Shirley sank down onto the couch.   
  
Reuben joined her. "Shirley, please tell me what this is all about!"  
  
She sighed, wanting to cry. "It's a long story. We gave Keith a motorcycle for his birthday - mistake number one - and he took it to the Taco Stand to show it to some friends five hours ago and he hasn't come back yet. I have called everyone I could think of, Laurie and Danny searched for him in the car and no one's seen him, and…oh, Reuben, I'm just so worried…"  
  
"Five hours, huh?" Reuben looked at his watch.   
"Have you called the police?"  
  
"Yes, but they said that not enough time has passed. He's now considered an adult, because he's eighteen." She laughed pitifully. "If it had happened yesterday, they would have jumped on it right away. Ironic, isn't it?" She covered her eyes with her hand, fighting tears.  
  
"Did you tell them it was Keith? Surely they would make an exception, what with the Family's standing in the community."  
  
Shirley shook her head. "I didn't mention his name, nor mine. Oh, Reuben, do you think it would make a difference?"  
  
"Only one way to find out. Can I use the phone in the kitchen?"  
  
"Of course, but remember, Keith may be trying to get through."  
  
Reuben squeezed her shoulder, getting up.  
Shirley lay back against the couch, feeling mixed emotions. She was worried about Keith, sure, but she was also angry at him and at herself. Why didn't he at least call? If he were held up somewhere, she would at least know he was all right. Now she really hated that motorcycle! She knew it would turn out to be the source of all this trouble. Darn that boy, anyway! He was trying to turn her old before her time!  
  
The tears came harder and Shirley curled her feet beneath her, hugging a pillow and letting her emotions out.  
  
"Mom." It was Laurie's voice, coming from behind her. Shirley looked up as her daughter rounded the couch.  
  
"You should be in bed, honey," Shirley quickly wiped at her eyes.   
  
"I'd rather be here with you, if you don't mind." Laurie put a comforting hand on her mother's arm as she sat down next to her.  
  
Shirley nodded and Laurie snuggled up to her, putting her head on Shirley's shoulder. "He'll be back, Mom. He's just got a new toy and he's playing around."  
  
"No, it isn't like Keith to break a promise, not deliberately, anyway," Shirley said distantly. "Oh, Laurie, why did we even buy him the silly thing?"  
  
Reuben exited from the kitchen. "Well, the precinct sergeant said he'll keep his eyes and ears open, and he's alerted all officers on duty, so…"  
  
"We wait," Shirley sighed, looking once again at the clock.  
  
"Yeah." Reuben took a seat.  
  
To Shirley, it was a dirty word.  
  
continued... 


	4. HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 4

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 4  
  
The tenement was sparsely furnished; a beat up old couch, a couple of chairs, a moth-eaten rug, but it was home for Lamar and Ta-mara, and they were lucky to have this much. Their father was a distant memory for the children; he'd left them when his daughter was a mere toddler. Lamar couldn't even remember what the man looked like. Their mother was a hard-working woman; she had to be, otherwise she and her children would starve. She worked two jobs, as a seamstress in a factory during the day and cleaning buildings at night. She did her best to provide for them, and made sure they got their schooling and took them to Church regularly. It hadn't been easy, but she knew she was teaching them right and she trusted them, which was why she'd left them alone while she attended her grandmother's funeral back in Chicago. Still, she would not be happy with their activities right at this moment; bringing a total stranger into the house, and a wounded white boy, at that. Not that she had anything against white people as a whole; she'd always been strict about prejudice of any kind, but there was no need to stir up trouble, and if any of the neighbors had seen Lamar carrying Keith up the two flights to their apartment, that's exactly what would be happening. Trouble with a capital 'T!'  
  
Ta-mara opened the door, letting Lamar go past her with his cargo. Even after carrying Keith a good two flights, Lamar was hardly winded. He carefully lowered Keith's still form down onto the couch. "Get me all the rags and towels you can find. We need to stop this bleeding. And water, a big bowl of water," Lamar ordered, propping Keith's head up on the couch's arm. In the lamplight of the living room, Lamar could see his patient's face for the first time. Not a bad looking dude for a whitey, he surmised. Well, he used to be, anyway. Keith's face was swollen black and blue, his jaw having gotten the worst of it. "Bring some pillows and blankets, too."  
  
Ta-mara returned with the pillows, blankets, rags, and water and Lamar slipped a pillow beneath Keith's head, then rolled him over to look at the bullet wound in his shoulder. It was the size of a dime, just below the shoulder blade. It still bled profusely and Lamar pressed a rag to it. "'Mara, get me some string or something. I need to tie this off."  
  
She was off again and Lamar kept pressure on the wound, then pulled the rag away, peering closely at the hole in Keith's jacket. He could see the bullet not too far from the skin surface.  
  
"Here's the string." Ta-mara handed it to him.  
"We've gotta get his jacket off. I want to take this bullet out."  
  
The girl's eyes widened. "How?"  
  
"All I need is some tweezers. Come on, help me sit him up."  
  
The two of them carefully sat Keith up, and Lamar let him rest on his shoulder. "Okay, 'Mara, quick, pull the jacket off, but be gentle," he instructed.  
  
She began to tug on the coat, pulling it down and easing one arm at a time out of the sleeves. As she carefully worked on the left arm, Keith moaned and she pulled back, afraid.  
  
"It's okay, keep going. He's not awake yet."  
  
Making a face because she knew Keith could feel it, Ta-mara kept pulling until the jacket was free.   
  
"Great," Lamar acknowledged, easing Keith back down. "Now, I need the tweezers."  
  
As she scrambled to look for some, Ta-mara called out from the other room. "Who do you think did this to him, Lamar?"  
  
"I dunno." Once again, he pressed the rag to Keith's shoulder, holding it as tight as he could, but still the blood oozed. If they didn't do something quick, this kid would bleed to death. He used the string as a tourniquet, quickly tying it hard around Keith's upper arm.  
  
She handed him the tweezers, falling on her knees beside the couch. "Maybe he's a cop or something."  
  
"No, I don't think so. He doesn't look much older than me. I think he's just some rich kid that somebody robbed and dumped in our alley. Now, look, I need your help here. You need to push up on his shoulder so I can see to get the bullet out. He'll probably feel it, so don't get scared if he yells."  
  
"Couldn't we numb it somehow first?" Ta-mara asked. It all sounded so painful.  
  
Lamar looked thoughtful. "I guess we could try some ice. I'll get it, cause you're too short to reach the freezer. Now, keep pressing on this rag, as hard as you can."  
  
She nodded as he got up, moving away. Keith made a soft whimpering noise, and she touched his forehead. "It's okay, baby, it's okay," she whispered.  
  
Lamar returned with a plastic bag full of ice. He knelt down, tearing a wider hole into Keith's shirtsleeve, then pressed the ice bag right onto his skin, holding it there for several minutes before removing it. Then, with Ta-mara's help, he took the tweezers and gently poked at the bullet hole.  
  
Keith moaned, tensing, and Lamar stopped.   
  
"Oh, don't, Lamar, you're hurting him!" his sister pleaded. "Besides, if you take it out, it might bleed more!"  
  
"Yeah, maybe you're right," Lamar mumbled. "We should just keep ice on it for a while."  
  
Someone pounded on the door and the two children jumped almost guiltily.  
  
"Quick, hide him. I'll get rid of whoever it is!" Lamar ordered, and Ta-mara grabbed a blanket. They draped it completely over Keith and Lamar went to the door.  
  
Mrs. Sanders from down the hall stood there. "You two babies all right? Somebody said they heard gunshots in the alley." She was a tired-looking woman in her early fifties.  
  
"Yeah, sure, Miz Sanders. We're okay." Lamar blocked her entrance into the apartment with his arm. "We were just gonna cook dinner."  
  
"Cook dinner," Mrs. Sanders said with a snort. "What, tuna fish sandwiches? Whyn't you let me fix you some pot roast or something? I promised your ma I'd take care of you, you know."  
  
"I know, but really, we're okay, huh, 'Mara?"  
  
Mrs. Sanders peered past Lamar at the blanket-covered sofa. "What's all that? Your laundry? I can throw it in with mine."  
  
"It's done! We were just gonna fold it and put it away." Lamar started closing the door. "If we need you, we'll call you, okay?"  
  
She shrugged. "Okay, okay. But knock loud."  
  
"Okay. Thanks." Lamar nodded, pushing the door shut and locking it. He turned back to the task at hand, and saw that Ta-mara had tucked the blanket safely around Keith's unconscious form. She sat with the ice pack, holding it on his arm, and Lamar smiled.   
  
"Here, let's get some more string and tie it there. Your hands are gonna get too cold to hold it."  
  
He did as he promised, and Ta-mara watched, fascinated at her brother's astute knowledge of first aid. She knew he'd always wanted to be a doctor, but their poverty prevented him from even thinking of college. Still, Mama would be proud of her son right now.  
  
"What, now?"  
  
"Let's check him out some more. Way he was beat up, there could be more injuries." Lamar pulled the blanket aside.  
  
Keith's jeans were torn, especially the left leg; tattered, to be exact, and Lamar got up, grabbing his mothers' sewing scissors. He began to carefully cut at the fabric, gently pulling it away from the skin underneath. What he saw there both fascinated and repulsed him.   
  
The skin there had been scraped away, probably from a road burn of some sort, and Lamar could almost see the muscle beneath it. The leg was a dark purple, having been slammed so hard into the garbage dumpster. Lamar whistled.  
  
"What?" Ta-mara tried to get a closer look, but he held her back with his hand.  
  
"It's too gruesome for you to see. I'll have to clean these wounds out or he's gonna get infected. See if we've got some iodine or something." Lamar kept cutting with the scissors.  
  
Eager to help, Ta-mara obeyed his orders. This playing nurse was sort of interesting, especially with a real live patient! She found a bottle of iodine in the bathroom and brought it out to Lamar.   
  
He eased a thick towel under Keith's leg (Mama would faint if she saw her best towel about to be used this way) and poured the iodine liberally over the raw skin. It must have stung, because Keith moaned, shifting on the couch.  
  
Ta-mara took his hand in both of hers, squeezing it as tightly as she could.   
  
"That'll kill most of the germs. Now I'll just wrap it in these bandages." Lamar told her, preparing to do just that.  
  
Ta-mara stared at Keith's bruised face as beads of sweat started forming on his forehead, trickling downwards. She reached over, feeling his forehead. It was warm, and she looked at Lamar.  
"He's got a fever."  
  
"Cool him down with some water, then."  
  
Dipping a cloth in the water bowl, Ta-mara attended to Keith's face while her brother worked on his leg. She wondered what this white boy would say when he woke up. If he woke up.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
  
Shirley slowed the car to a near crawl. Something up ahead was stalling traffic and she was getting frustrated. Here she was, in a frenzy to find Keith, and there had to be a traffic jam!   
  
Leaning out the window, she tried to see what was going on, but to no avail. There were at least 10 cars in front of her, all moving at a snail's pace, furthering her frustration. Now the vehicles in front of her stopped! Didn't they realize that they were impeding her search for her son? Angry and crying, Shirley beeped the horn. Maybe someone would tell her what the holdup was.  
  
Her wish was granted. A young boy on a bicycle was heading her way, snaking his way through the jam up ahead. Shirley opened the car door. "Young man!" She waved him over to her. "What's going on up there? Are they fixing the road or something?"  
  
The boy shook his head. "There's a big accident!" Something in his eyes told her that not all was well. "It's a mess. Some guy on a motorcycle got hit by a van."  
  
His words echoed in Shirley's ears. "Motorcycle?" she barely got it out. "Is…is the driver all right? What does he look like?" Oh, please dear God…  
  
The kid shrugged. "Brown hair, sort of on the long side, not real tall. He's in bad shape. The paramedics are working on him, but I don't think he's gonna make it."  
  
He pedaled off, and Shirley swallowed. It couldn't be. Surely there were other motorcyclists that fit the boy's description…not that she wished this on another mother out there somewhere…she just prayed that it wasn't her son!   
  
Everything was at a standstill now, and Shirley got out, running past the line of cars, her heart in her throat.   
  
The scene up ahead was horrifying. A large white van sat sideways in the intersection, its left front fender crumpled. In the van's path lay the bent motorcycle, and a policeman was talking to the driver of the van. Nearby, right in front of the red paramedics' truck, she saw two uniformed men kneeling over a very still form on the pavement. As she pressed on, Shirley saw the familiar jacket and jeans. It was Keith.  
  
She screamed.  
  
"Mom!"  
  
Shirley opened her eyes. Laurie was leaning over her as she lay on the couch.  
  
"Mom, are you okay?"  
  
Gathering her wits, Shirley sat up. "I…I dreamed that Keith was…" She couldn't even bring herself to say it. "Oh, Laurie…please tell me he came home…" she moaned.  
  
Laurie shook her head. "Not yet. Reuben's been on the phone with the police, and they say they're looking for him, but nothing yet." Laurie rubbed her mother's shoulder. "Do you want a cup of chamomile tea? It'll calm you down and help you sleep."  
  
"I don't want to sleep, Laurie…one nightmare is enough…what time is it?"  
  
"Going on six o'clock; it's almost dawn." Laurie looked tired.  
  
"Have you slept?"  
  
"Off and on…" Laurie smiled sadly. "I kept having bad thoughts, too. Mostly what I was going to do to him when he did come home, for worrying us like this."  
  
Shirley pulled her down next to her on the sofa, kissing the side of her head. "At this point, I may let you carry those thoughts out. What could he be thinking?"  
  
There was a pause, and then Laurie sighed. "Should we send the kids to school?"  
  
"I think it's best, don't you? We have enough to worry about without them here. If it would help, you can go yourself."  
  
"Not on your life. I want to be here when he walks through that door. He'd better have one heck of an excuse!" Laurie's voice trailed off and she tried to stifle a sob.  
  
Shirley reached over, taking Laurie's face in her hands. "Go on upstairs and rest, honey. I can handle it down here for a while. Where's Reuben?"  
  
"Last I saw, he was in the kitchen. He hasn't slept, either." Laurie swallowed back the tears. "Darn that Keith! Where is he, Mom? Why doesn't he come home?"  
  
Shirley didn't have an answer to that. All she could do was press her head into Laurie's and cry with her.  
  
continued... 


	5. HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 5

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 5  
  
The morning light drifting in and Lamar shaking her woke Ta-mara. She found herself on her bed, still in yesterday's clothes.   
  
"Come on, 'Mara, time to get up."  
  
She tried to shake off the sleepiness, then she remembered Keith. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was placing a cool wet rag on his forehead.  
  
She sat up. "How is he?"  
  
"Still out. Come on. Better get ready for school."  
  
She stared at Lamar. "You're going to school? What about him?"  
  
"He'll sleep all day. Come on, or we'll be late."  
  
Ta-mara scrambled out of the bed, following her brother into the living room. She stopped to look at Keith there on the couch. He was still feverish and sweating profusely and Ta-mara felt his cheek with the back of her hand. "He's so hot…and really pale."  
  
"Fever can be a good thing, 'Mara. It means he's fighting off infection. Now come on!"  
  
She shook her head. "I'd best stay with him. What if he falls off the couch or something? Or he could wake up and panic, not knowing where he is."  
  
Lamar looked amused. "He's gonna panic whether we're here or not. We have to go to school, 'Mara. We promised Mama. Besides, I can't call you in sick. They have to talk to an adult."  
  
"Well, how about getting Miz Sanders to do it? You could tell her I've come down with the flu."  
  
"Uh huh, and suppose she wants to check you out? She'll see him here."  
  
Defeated for the moment, Ta-mara looked sadly over at Keith. Then she brightened. "I know…we can move him onto Mama's bed and close the door. Then if she did come over, he'd be hidden."  
  
This little girl was determined, Lamar thought. And stubborn. Just like him. "Okay," he said, after a thought. But you'd better fake it good. Miz Sanders is pretty smart. It'll be hard to fool her."  
  
Ta-mara nodded, watching anxiously as Lamar lifted Keith from the couch.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Shirley stared at the coffee in the cup before her. She really didn't feel like drinking it; besides, it was cool now much to her distaste.   
Reuben sat at the table across from her, not knowing what to say anymore. Really, how many times can you reassure a person when you were beginning to feel hopeless yourself? Looking at the clock, he saw the time was nearly 11:00 a.m. Keith had been missing for nearly twelve hours, now.  
  
He had to say something. "Maybe he did get hurt. Not seriously, mind you," he said quickly to her look of horror. "But just enough to make him afraid to come home and tell you."  
  
Shirley shook her head. "My children know that they can come to me anytime with any problem, Reuben. Do I look like some sort of monster?"  
  
He smiled. "Hardly."  
  
She was boiling now. "If he came home injured, I'd do what any mother would do. I'd fix him up, make sure he was all right…" she glanced at Reuben, knowing full well what was coming next. "Then I'd kill him."  
  
The manager nodded. "That's what I thought."  
  
Shirley smiled in spite of herself. "Oh, Reuben, this…not knowing! It's so frustrating!"  
  
He reached over, patting her hand as Laurie poked her head in the door. "Mom, there's a police car and a big van outside."  
  
"A van?" Shirley's heart leaped into her throat. The nightmare.  
  
She and Reuben jumped up, hurrying for the door.  
  
True to Laurie's word, a marked police car and a large white truck were parked at the curb, a uniformed policeman was heading their way, and two others sat in the cab of the truck.  
  
"Mrs. Partridge, I'm Sergeant Fowler, San Pueblo Police Department." The officer offered his hand.  
  
"Sergeant, this is my daughter, Laurie, and our manager, Reuben Kincaid."  
  
The Sergeant nodded, shaking their hands as well. "Yes, Mr. Kincaid and I have spoken before."  
  
"Do you have any word on Keith?" Laurie glanced uneasily at the van.  
  
"As a matter of fact, we do." The Sergeant looked behind him. The two officers got out and went around to the back of the truck.  
  
"Good news, I hope?" Shirley's voice was barely audible.  
  
They watched as the truck doors were pulled open and Shirley half hoped that Keith would just step out of there, looking sorry for what he'd put them through.  
  
It wasn't to be. The men climbed inside and pulled down a ramp. The officer, Shirley, Laurie and Reuben moved around to the back of the truck.  
  
Shirley was almost mortified to see them unload Keith's motorcycle. "Sergeant?" she turned to him.  
"We found it in the San Pueblo River."  
  
His words hurt her ears. She wasn't hearing this!   
  
"The…the river?" Laurie squeaked.  
  
Reuben's stomach churned. Did he dare ask? "And Keith…?"  
  
"We're dragging the river. We haven't found him, yet. I'm sorry."  
  
Shirley cried out, sinking down. Reuben caught her just in time. "Come on, Shirley…let's go inside."  
  
Shirley shook her head, squirming away from his hold. "No!" she screamed, her hands to her head. She fell to her knees, weeping, as Laurie, in shock herself, reached down, taking her mother by the shoulders.  
  
"Mom, please…they haven't found him…it doesn't mean …it doesn't mean he's dead." The last word was a sob, and she dropped down beside her.  
  
Reuben was feeling numb. He looked at the officer. "Will you let us know…if you - ?"  
  
Sergeant Fowler nodded. "Of course." He paused. "I wish I had better news."  
  
He moved back to his car as Reuben knelt beside the two women, his hands on their backs. "Please…let's go inside."  
  
He managed to bring them both to their feet and they clung to one another, hysterical, as he walked them back to the house.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Ta-mara was beginning to feel just a little guilty. Here she had lied to Mrs. Sanders about being sick; and the neighbor had been trying to ply her with her special chicken soup all morning. Finally, Ta-mara had to just lock the door and pretend to be asleep every time the woman knocked. Still another lie! Mama would not be happy with her right now!  
  
But, she tried to tell herself, it was all for a good cause. Keith could wake up any moment and she wanted to be there to ease his fears. Although were it her, waking up in a strange place with a stranger staring down at her, Ta-mara surmised that she'd be more than fearful. She'd be downright terrified! Perhaps Lamar was right; she should have just gone to school like she was supposed to. Then again, she would probably want to tell her friends of their find, and that could bring even more trouble! Especially if she told Jenny Lewis. That girl couldn't keep a secret to save her life!  
  
It was like having the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, now. Ta-mara was feeling more and more confused. Sitting at Mama's battered old dressing table, she scowled at herself in the mirror. What have you gotten yourself (and Lamar) into, child?  
  
Behind her, on the bed, Keith moaned and Ta-mara tensed, first looking at him in the mirror, then turning fully around.  
  
He was on his back, a blanket tucked neatly around him, still sweating; still as pale as Casper the Ghost. He moaned again and Ta-mara got up, going to his side. Taking the wet rag from the bowl of water on the nightstand, she wrung it out and wiped off his face.  
  
"It's okay, honey…are you awake? Can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes…" she spoke softly to him, not knowing whether or not he could hear her.  
  
He made another sound, then was silent again, and Ta-mara sighed, continuing to try to cool him down.   
  
She looked at the clock. It was eleven; Lamar and the kids would be on their lunch hour at school, now. She wondered what was being served. Let's see, it was Monday; probably chili. Just the thought of it made her hungry. She knew that the chicken soup that Mrs. Sanders had brought on her second trip down the hall was sitting on the stove. All Ta-mara had to do was heat it up. It wouldn't take five minutes. But now Keith was moaning. He'd been so quiet before. Suppose he woke up while she was in the kitchen?  
  
Her tummy made a growling noise and Ta-mara realized she had to give in. Gently patting Keith's face, she spoke to him in a motherly tone. "You lie here and don't move. I'll be right back, okay?" She smoothed the blanket and hesitantly moved toward the door. Then she slipped out, making sure to close the door behind her.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
It seemed that all hell was breaking loose in the Partridge house that horrible morning. The word had gotten out of Keith's 'demise' and reporters and friends were converging on the house, the phone was ringing off the hook and it was all up to Reuben to handle it. Shirley and Laurie had holed themselves upstairs, still trying to deal with the news, however premature it was, leaving the already harried manager to deal with the chaos ensuing downstairs.  
  
After two hours of utter commotion, Reuben finally released a press statement, explaining that while the bike had been found in the river, Keith had not, nor did they expect to find him there. It just didn't make sense. The river was at least 20 miles away from the house, in the opposite direction of the taco stand, and all the witnesses had verified that Keith was indeed on his way home when he disappeared. And, Reuben continued, while the Family was grateful for the concern shown at this time, but they were not giving up hope of finding the young man alive, and should anyone have any more information, to please contact the San Pueblo Police Department.  
  
It had all sounded a bit crass, but at the time, it was the best he could do. He still had Laurie and Shirley to deal with, not to mention 3 younger Partridges still unaware of the news.  
  
So, he locked the doors, turned down the phone and holed himself up in the kitchen. It was a good thing he wasn't a drinking man, because he would be plastered by now.  
  
He slumped into a chair at the table. Poor Shirley, he thought. What could be going through her mind? Sure, Keith was like a son to him; all the kids were like family, probably the only family he would ever have. But Keith was Shirley's; her pride and joy. What if she has lost him? Not to trivialize the situation, but what about the Partridge Family as a group? Keith was the anchor. There would be no Partridge Family without him. And where did that leave him, Reuben Kincaid, the manager?   
The thoughts started churning and Reuben put his head in his hands, wanting to scream and knowing he couldn't because he was always the calm one in these situations. He had to remain stoical; distance himself from any emotion. For Shirley and the kids.  
  
He heard himself sob. It took him by surprise, and he looked around the room as if expecting to see Danny there, playing a joke on him or something. No, he realized, he was crying. Reuben Kincaid was actually crying. To hell with being calm. He was only human, after all!  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
  
  
Ta-mara was falling asleep, nearly tumbling off of the chair she'd put next to Mama's bed. The action snapped her out of it and she went back to the book she'd been reading aloud to Keith, even though she knew he couldn't hear her. She'd always been a good reader, and it was her favorite past time. Since the Jackson's couldn't afford a television set, Mama had always encouraged her and Lamar to read. Ta-mara especially loved the classics, like The Wizard Of Oz, Kidnapped!, and the one she was reading now, Peter Pan.  
  
She scanned the page to see where she had left off. It was about her twentieth time reading this book. She could practically tell the story. Her favorite character was Wendy; how she would love to be able to fly! And Wendy's crush on Peter Pan; but he was too silly to know it. Boys.  
  
Just as she started to read, she happened to glance at Keith. His eyes were open; just looking at her.  
  
Startled, she nearly dropped the book. "You…you're awake!"  
  
He blinked.  
  
She got up, setting the book aside. His eyes followed her, but she sensed he was only half-seeing. Putting her hand on his forehead, she winced, feeling the heat. "Your fever's worse. Can you talk, honey? Can you tell me your name?"  
  
He just blinked again and she turned, taking the rag from the bowl of water. She wrung it out, leaving some moisture in it. She gently placed it on his forehead, pressing gently down on it, letting the water seep out and trickle down. He closed his eyes and she took the rag, wiping his face with it. His waking up was a good sign, she told herself. But why wasn't he talking? Was he too weak? He'd lost a lot of blood, being shot and all. She soaked the rag again and put it back on his forehead.  
  
She looked at the clock. Still a couple of hours before Lamar would be coming home from school. Looking down at Keith, she noticed to her dismay that he was out again. Oh well, she thought, at least he wasn't in any pain this way.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
  
Shirley was all cried out. Dried completely up. No more tears left to come. She looked over at Laurie, all curled up on the bed asleep, thanks to the over-the-counter sleeping pill Shirley had given her. At least one of them was resting. She pulled an afghan over her daughter, kissed her forehead and left the room. Perhaps Reuben had good news.  
She made her way down the stairs to find their manager on the phone.  
  
He noticed her approaching, and cut the conversation short. "Okay, we'll be right here in case you do. Right. Thanks."  
  
He hung up. Shirley looked terrible, and his heart went out to her. "Are you all right, Shirley?"  
  
She nodded wearily. "As good as I can be, under the circumstances." She said it with a heavy sigh. "Any news?"  
  
"Well, they completed their search of the river and didn't find him. I didn't think they would. It just doesn't mesh."  
  
"Then where is he?" Shirley dropped onto the couch next to him, still clutching tissues in her hand.  
  
"I don't know. The police are scouring the area in case maybe he's lying helpless nearby. And I think we can rule out a kidnapping; we would have gotten a ransom note or call." Reuben shook his head. "I just don't…I just don't know, Shirley."  
  
She put her head on his shoulder. He smiled sadly, slipping his arm around her.  
  
"The press has been relentless, so I released a statement. I couldn't go into any details, but I thanked the public for their concern and asked them for any information. They're supposedly running it continuously throughout the day."  
"Oh, Reuben, what would I ever do without you?"  
He put his head back on the sofa, unable to reply. Darn this Family, anyway! How could he love them so much?  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
It had to be the fever. Keith was dreaming he was on the motorcycle, riding through a fire. The heat was severe; scorching. The flames licked at him from all sides, and the fire was never ending. It stretched out in front of him forever. He kept riding, riding, riding, listening to the crackling and smelling the choking smoke. Soon, the flames died, leaving a smoldering, blackened pathway in their wake. Yet, the heat remained.  
  
He opened his eyes. Someone was hovering over him and he did his best to focus. The figure wasn't huge; but all he could see was a shadow. Why couldn't he define the image? His head hurt, pounding at his eyes. His left shoulder throbbed. And the heat!   
  
The figure moved. He felt something cool on his forehead and heard a muffled voice. Was it speaking to him? He couldn't be sure. He couldn't make out any words. Where was he? Who was he?  
The feeling frightened him. He couldn't remember his name! With a cry, he forced his head up off the pillow, still unable to see clearly around him.  
  
Ta-mara swallowed, sensing Keith's fear. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, sweetie…you're okay," she soothed. Looking at the clock, she frowned. Where was Lamar? School let out a good twenty minutes ago!  
  
It was then that she heard the door open. She hoped he was alone, but she didn't dare chance leaving Keith's side to find out. "Lamar!"  
  
He entered a few seconds later. "What?"  
  
"He woke up, and he's…he's delirious. He's scared, Lamar, and really hot! I've been cooling him down with the washcloths, but it's not working!"  
  
Lamar went to the bedside, putting a big hand on Keith's damp forehead. Frowning, he pulled the blanket away. Keith's shirt was soaking wet and sticking to his body. Lamar reached over, gently rolling Keith towards him. His shoulder beneath the torn shirt was red and oozing something sticky. Lamar swallowed. "Bullet wound's infected."  
  
Ta-mara looked mortified. "Oh, no! What're we gonna do?"  
  
Lamar bit his lower lip, trying to think. "I'm gonna go get Ricky Avila's sister. She helps out at the free clinic."  
  
"Theresa? She's only nineteen!"  
  
Lamar looked angry. "So, she won't tell anybody he's here. You want me to call an ambulance or something? How would we explain him, 'Mara? We could get in a lot of trouble!"  
  
"What kind of trouble?"  
  
"We're black, aren't we? They're automatically gonna think I shot him!" He shouted.  
  
His words were like a slap in the face. He was right. A wounded white boy in this neighborhood…there wouldn't even be so much as a trial.  
  
"Okay, but hurry. He's sick, Lamar!" Ta-mara pleaded as he hurried out.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
From the looks on the two smallest Partridges' faces, Reuben could tell that the reality of Keith's disappearance hadn't quite hit home yet. Only Danny understood. His blue eyes misted over in spite of himself and he fought hard not to cry in front of everyone.   
  
"But if they haven't found him, isn't that good news?" Danny swallowed, tasting the tears way back in his throat.  
  
"Of course it is, honey, but the longer he's been gone…" Shirley's voice trailed off.  
  
"Are you sure he wasn't in the river?" Laurie sat with her arms around Chris and Tracy.  
  
"Positive. They called off the search. Only the bike was found." Reuben reiterated.  
  
"Maybe he went to Disneyland," Tracy piped up. "Keith loves Disneyland."  
  
Shirley reached over, putting her hand on her little daughter's head. "No, baby. He's not at Disneyland," she said shakily.  
  
"Mom," Chris stared up at Shirley. "Suppose he never comes home?"  
  
Shirley's eyes darted first to Reuben's face, then to Laurie's. What could she say? She was speechless.  
  
Tracy sighed, scowling at him. "He's gotta come home. All his clothes are here!" Her voice reflected disdain.  
  
Laurie closed her eyes, leaning down and putting her face in Tracy's red hair. "You're right, Tracy. He's got to come home."  
  
"And he will soon. If we all say our prayers tonight, maybe tomorrow we'll hear some good news," Shirley added.  
  
"I tried that last night," Danny muttered, his eyes cast to the floor. "And all they found was that stupid motorcycle!" He shouted, flopping onto the couch, his face as red and fiery as the mop surrounding it. He bitterly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.   
  
"You can't yell at God," Tracy glared at him.  
  
"I can if I want to!" Danny snapped.  
  
"Well, then, if Keith doesn't come home, it's all your fault, because God doesn't like to be yelled at!" Tracy broke into tears, turning and burying her head into Laurie's shoulder.  
  
"Okay, enough, all of you. I realize that everyone's upset with the news about Keith, but we're not going to fight like this." Shirley looked (and felt!) ten years older than she was. "Why don't we get some take-out and watch a good musical on television?"  
  
"Good idea." Laurie nodded. "It'll help take our minds off of Keith for a while. Will you be staying, Rueben?"  
  
"That is the best invitation I have ever received," Reuben sighed.  
  
continued... 


	6. HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 6

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 6  
  
Theresa Avila was a tall, thin Latino girl; the prettiest girl in the projects, if Lamar had his vote. Nearly all of the boys had had crushes on her at one time or another, but Theresa seemed to take it all in stride. She was like a mother to many of the kids in the neighborhood, gentle, understanding and smart; very smart. She was attending San Pueblo Junior College on a nursing scholarship; the closest most any of the people in this part of town would ever come to higher education, and that included most of the adults.  
  
  
Lamar stood at her side as she looked at Keith's shoulder, the look on her face telling him that the news was not good.  
  
"You're right, it is infected. Very infected. Have you put disinfectant on it? You know, iodine, hydrogen peroxide?" she asked, wiping her hands on a rag.  
  
"Iodine, when I bandaged up his leg. Could it be because the bullet's still in there?" Lamar asked.  
  
Theresa nodded. "I'm sure it is not helping. He needs a doctor, Lamar, you know that. He could die from all of these wounds."  
  
Lamar swallowed hard, glancing at Ta-mara. "I thought we could help him, but I guess not."  
  
"Oh, you helped him," Theresa assured him. "He would have died for sure out there in the alley. But he needs more medical attention than you are able to give."  
  
"So….what do we do, now?"  
  
"That is up to you, but I would call an ambulance and let them take him to a hospital."  
  
Ta-mara sprang forward. "But we can't! Lamar could go to jail!"  
  
Theresa looked surprised at the little girl's outburst. "What? Why?"  
  
"They'll think Lamar did this to him! He didn't, but they won't believe him!" Ta-mara cried, her dark eyes filling with tears.  
  
Theresa smiled gently, putting her hand on Ta-mara's dark face. "Of course they will. They are not policemen. But, if this boy dies in your care, they will hold both of you responsible!"  
  
Theresa's words took both children by surprise. "They will?"  
  
She nodded, her long dark hair bouncing on her bony shoulders. "Yes, because you neglected to get him the proper medical attention."  
  
Lamar's heart pounded hard in his chest. "I'll go over to Miz Sanders' and use her phone."   
  
Theresa smiled, nodding. "Good. I will get some ice for his fever. We need to cool him down as much as we can."   
  
"Will you stay here when the men from the ambulance come, to tell them that Lamar didn't have anything to do with this?" Ta-mara pleaded.  
  
"I will tell them everything you have told me," Theresa answered, as Lamar left the room. Glancing down at Keith, she lost her smile. For some reason, this boy looked familiar, but she couldn't place it.  
  
Ta-mara noticed the look on her face. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing. I was just…thinking. You do not know his name?"  
  
Ta-mara shook her head. "No. He didn't have anything on him, not even a wallet. And he wouldn't - or couldn't - answer me when he woke up earlier."  
  
Shrugging, Theresa led Ta-mara out into the kitchen.  
  
Theresa opened the freezer and pulled out the two metal ice trays. "I will need a towel and the bottle of iodine."  
  
"Okay." Ta-mara began to gather the items. "Do you know who he is, Theresa?"  
  
"No. He looks familiar, but I cannot remember where I have seen him before."  
  
"Maybe he's been in the clinic."  
  
Theresa laughed lightly. "I don't think so. We don't get very many well-dressed Caucasians in the clinic. He looks very well-off."  
  
"Maybe he goes to your school." Ta-mara brought in the iodine and the towel.  
  
"That is possible. He looks to be about my age." Theresa emptied the ice trays into the middle of the towel. She and the little girl went back into the bedroom.   
  
Keith was moaning now and Theresa leaned down, her hand stroking his face. "It will be all right. We're getting you some help." She spoke gently. To Ta-mara, she said, "Okay, now we will take the ice and rub him down. You can put the cubes in a washcloth so your hands won't get cold. Take one at a time until it is all melted, then get another one. You do his arms, and I will work on his face and throat. Make sure you get his wrists. It will cool the blood in his veins."  
  
Ta-mara nodded, taking a cube from the nest in the towel. Theresa pushed Keith's sleeves up as high as she could get them and Ta-mara went to work, sliding the ice up and down his arm as fast as she could go.  
  
Theresa opened the shirt collar wide and placed a cube on his throat, then worked it down underneath the shirt, all the while staring at this very familiar stranger.  
  
The moaning continued, but softened as the two girls worked.   
  
Lamar came in. "The ambulance is on the way. They said it would only be a few more minutes."  
Theresa looked up. "Did you tell him he'd been shot?"  
  
Lamar nodded. "Yes, and I told them that I didn't do it, either."  
  
Theresa smiled. "You are very brave, Lamar. I am sure they will believe you."  
  
The boy looked a little embarrassed, glancing down at the floor. "I hope so. All we did was try and help, right, 'Mara?"  
  
Ta-mara grinned. "Right."  
  
"You probably saved his life," Theresa said, her face serious.  
  
"Anybody would've done the same thing." Lamar brushed it off.  
  
"No, Lamar. They would not have. That is what is so sad. Most people would have just let him die." Theresa ran the ice cube over Keith's throat, staring down at him.  
  
Lamar nodded. Unfortunately, she was so very, very right.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Ta-mara watched anxiously as the paramedics lifted Keith onto the stretcher. They had put a needle in his arm and attached it to a large bottle. He still hadn't completely wakened, and her heart ached, knowing that she would probably never see him again. She'd become quite attached to this stranger, though not a word had passed between them in all this time.  
  
Lamar and Theresa sat in the living room, talking to the policeman that the paramedics had called because of the gunshot wound. The officer had explained that it was just routine, that Lamar was not under arrest or anything, but the boy was still a little wary in answering his questions.  
  
"You didn't see anyone around him when you first saw him in the alley?" the policeman asked again.  
  
"No. Just my sister. She came and got me and I looked him over. That's when I saw the bullet hole." Lamar explained, his eyes darting to Theresa.  
  
She nodded, patting his leg as the policeman continued. "Did you look for the gun?"  
  
"No. I was too worried about him. I knew he wouldn't make it out there, so I just picked him up and brought him inside."  
  
"Why didn't you call an adult?"  
  
Lamar shrugged. "I didn't know who to call. You cops - er, police don't like coming around here, and Mama's out of town." He looked frustrated. "I was just trying to help the guy. I didn't know I was doing anything wrong!"  
  
The officer's face softened. "You weren't, son. You did your best, but you really should have called us. That's what we're here for."  
  
"I know," Lamar muttered, looking up as Keith was brought out of the bedroom on the gurney. Ta-mara walked right beside it.  
  
The policeman, Theresa and Lamar stood up. "Where are you taking him? I'll need to notify his family."  
  
"San Pueblo General," the taller of the two medics answered.  
  
Theresa looked surprised. "You know who he is? He doesn't have any identification on him."  
  
"His name is Keith Partridge. His family reported him missing yesterday evening."  
  
Ta-mara stared after the gurney as it was pushed out into the hall. So now she knew his name. She smiled softly to herself.   
  
"They must be very worried." Theresa put her arm around Lamar's shoulders.  
  
"Yes, but thanks to these two kids, they'll all be sleeping a little easier tonight." The policeman smiled down at Ta-mara, then at Lamar. "Thanks, kids. I'll be sure and tell his family what you did for him."  
  
Lamar's gaze shyly met the floor, while Ta-mara grinned. Suddenly, she felt ten feet tall. She nearly felt like she could fly!  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Right in the middle of "The Music Man," the phone rang. Everyone in the living room froze.  
  
"Maybe it's Keith," Laurie whispered, hoping beyond hope.  
  
The ringing continued with everyone just staring at it.   
  
"Somebody answer it!" Danny cried.  
  
Trembling, Shirley started to reach for it, then stopped. "Oh, I can't, Reuben. You do it."  
  
He grabbed the receiver, clearing his throat as he brought it to his ear. "Hello?" His eyes darted around the room, taking in each face as he listened, his face reflecting no emotion at all. "Yes, yes…I see. Fine. Thank you so much for letting us know. Yes, of course."  
  
He was his old, calm self as he sat the receiver into its cradle.  
  
There was only the sound of breathing in the room.   
What came next was totally unbelievable.   
  
"Keith is in San Pueblo General. Some kids found him in an alley on the North end of town." He said it so non-chalantly, that one would think he was ordering a pizza. Then he grinned as wide as he could.  
  
Chaos erupted around him. The kids began screaming and jumping around as Shirley burst into tears, grabbing Reuben in a tight hug.   
  
Tears came to the blond man's eyes as he soaked in all the love the Partridges were showing for their brother and son. And like Wendy and Ta-mara, he too, could easily fly right now.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
  
Still unconscious, Keith lay in the hospital bed, this time surrounded by family, Reuben, and a young doctor.  
  
"We were able to remove the bullet in the E.R. without any problems. The infection should go away in a day or two. His leg, however, will require some surgery; the x-ray showed a fracture in the tibia and quite a bit of ligament damage. He could be looking at some therapy there. Other than that, ladies and gentlemen, Keith seems to be in okay shape. His wounds are serious, but we can deal with things as they come up. He's quite dehydrated. His jaw wasn't broken, which was lucky, and the bruises on his face will heal fairly quickly." The doctor spoke rapidly but professionally, keeping an eye on Laurie as he talked.  
  
Noticing his unabashed attention, she blushed, glancing down at her brother. "Why is he still unconscious?"  
  
The doctor cocked his head. "It could be due to a lot of things. The high fever, which, by the way, we were able to pull down from 103 to 101; the loss of blood…let's just say he was a quart low…it may be even something serious like a blunt trauma to the head, which we will be checking into before we take him to surgery."  
  
Shirley reached down, placing her hand on her son's cheek. "I'm just glad to have him back…"  
  
The doctor smiled kindly. "From what I hear, he's lucky just to be here. Those children saved his life."  
Shirley looked up, nodding. "Does anyone know who they were? We really should thank them somehow."  
  
"The police should have all that information, Shirley. I'll find out." Reuben looked down at the kids. "Anybody want to hit the cafeteria for some dinner? I'm starved."  
  
"Me, too!" Danny agreed, and Tracy and Chris nodded.  
  
"You 'kids' go on ahead. I think I'll just stay here until they take Keith to surgery. What time did you say that would be, Doctor?"  
  
"Seven p.m. Just a little over an hour. The nurse will let you know when visiting time is over."  
  
"Thank you," Shirley said, her dark eyes shining.  
  
The doctor smiled at her, then turned back to Laurie. "If you're hungry, young lady, I would love to buy you dinner. And not that cafeteria food," he grinned at Reuben. "How about at the diner across the street?"  
  
Laurie looked a little flustered. "Well, I'd love to, but…"  
  
"Go on, honey. I can wait with Keith." Shirley smiled knowingly.   
  
"Yeah, Laurie…go on…he's a doctor," Danny said out of the side of his mouth. "Don't blow it!"  
  
Blushing again, Laurie nodded. "Okay, sure. The diner it is."  
  
"Good!" The doctor flipped his chart closed. "I am officially off duty for the next forty-five minutes." To Shirley, he added, "Of course, if you need me, have the nurse page me. I don't anticipate any complications, but you never know."  
  
"Thank you, I will. Have fun, honey…and Reuben, would you be a doll and bring me a salad back with you from the cafeteria?" Shirley was already pulling the chair up next to Keith's bed.  
  
"Sure. Come on, kids." Reuben ushered them out, and Laurie and the doctor followed.  
  
Finally alone and the room quiet, Shirley literally fell into the chair at the bedside, her emotions getting the best of her. After all, she'd been through hell, not knowing if she would ever see Keith alive again; the waiting, the worry, the horror.  
  
She reached over, clutching his hand and bringing it to her mouth. Weeping, she kissed it and closed her eyes, whispering a very heartfelt prayer: "Dear God, thank You so much for letting me get my son back…please watch over him now and forever! Amen."  
  
She sat forward in the chair, gently petting Keith's head, soaking in every bit of his face as if it were the first time she was seeing it. Already she could see an improvement in the bruising. Standing up, she bent down, her lips gently pressing into his cheek, half-hoping it would wake him. Alas, that only happened in fairy tales…  
  
She laid his hand back down and forced herself away from the bed. Seeing him like this made her heart ache, but not as much as not seeing him. It was a feeling only a mother would know, not being able to find her child. Whether he was eight or eighteen, the feeling was the same. That unbearable emptiness, the interminable feeling of helplessness. She wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy, even if she had one.  
  
Sobbing, now, Shirley dropped into a chair next to the window. She had him back, but at what price? He'd been shot; a bullet had actually invaded his body! And his leg. The doctor had mentioned therapy. Did it mean that his gait would be forever altered? Not that it would make him any less loveable, it's just that, well, he was so darned young! Maybe he'd never even walk again. She hadn't thought about that.   
  
She took a deep breath. Stop thinking these crazy thoughts. Even if one of them came to pass, at least he was here. He was her son, and she loved him no matter what.   
  
The door opened and Shirley looked up to see the nurse and two orderlies. "Mrs. Partridge, you'll have to wait in the waiting room, now."  
  
Shirley looked at the clock. "You're taking him in, now?"  
  
"Yes. We need to prep him, take x-rays and so forth. We'll keep you posted as the surgery progresses."  
  
Shirley nodded as the orderlies brought in a stretcher. She had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach as she watched them ease Keith from the bed to the gurney. Bolting forward, she went to him for one last, long look as the nurse, apparently a mother herself, stood back, waiting patiently.  
  
"Please take care of him. I already nearly lost him once." Shirley pleaded squeezing Keith's hand.  
  
The nurse smiled. "We will, I promise."  
  
Shirley had to hold back another sob as she watched them wheel Keith out the door. Following them out, she didn't take her eyes off the gurney until it rounded the corner and left her sight.  
  
continued...  
  



	7. HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 7

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH PARTRIDGE, PART 7  
  
In spite of all the reasons she had for staying awake, Shirley dozed in the waiting room chair, her head on a pillow one of the nurses had been kind enough to give her. Across from her in another chair, Reuben nodded off, too. At least Laurie and the kids were in their own beds at home…  
  
  
The doctor's voice woke Shirley. "Mrs. Partridge?"  
  
  
Startled, her eyes flew open and she sat up straight in the chair. "Hmm? What…what is it?" Realizing her surroundings, she glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight. Reuben snored on.  
  
  
The doctor took a seat next to her. He was smiling, which immediately eased her fears. "The surgery went well. Keith is in the recovery room and he's doing just fine. We repaired the torn ligaments in his leg. It's in a cast and will be for the next six to eight weeks. So, no marathons for him for a while."  
  
  
Shirley smiled, feeling so relieved she could cry. "Can we see him?"  
  
  
"Sure, when he comes out of the recovery room. His temperature is nearly normal and he should wake up soon. If he doesn't come out of it in a few hours, we'll see what we can do. There was no head trauma, so you can relax about that. I'm pretty sure it was the fever."  
  
  
"Wonderful, thank you, Doctor."  
  
  
The doctor smiled, patting her arm. "Give him another twenty minutes in the recovery room, then they'll put him back in bed and you can go in." He winked at her. "Now, remember, I'm just a beep away if you need me."  
  
  
"Thank you." Shirley nodded as he moved off. Looking at Reuben, she smiled as he snored loudly then jumped awake. "Reuben." She reached over, nudging his leg.  
  
  
"Huh? Whazzat?" he muttered, still half asleep. "Shirley? What's wrong? Is Keith okay? Where's the doctor?" He looked like his harried old self, now.  
  
  
"The doctor was just here. Keith's out of surgery and we can see him in a few minutes. Why don't we go get some coffee while we wait for them to put him back in his room?"  
  
  
"Good idea," Reuben stretched. "Man…I dreamed I was being chased with a power saw or something. Sure was noisy!"  
  
  
"Reuben," Shirley said, her eyes dancing. "That was you snoring!"  
  
  
He looked indignant. "I don't snore, Shirley! I have never snored a day in my life!"  
  
  
"Really? Well, then your dreams must be extremely real, because I heard that power saw, too. I think it was cutting down an entire forest!" She teased as they stood up.  
  
  
He laughed sheepishly, following her down the hall.  
  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Shirley sat at Keith's bedside, clutching his hand as he continued to sleep. At least, sleeping is what they'd told her he was doing. His left leg was in a low sling atop the bed, the white cast gleaming in the dimly lit room, but other than that he was pretty much the same as he'd left her.  
  
Reuben sat trying to keep alert in the chair nearer the window. Shirley didn't have the heart to make him stay awake, so she let him be and it wasn't long before he was in as deep as Keith was.  
  
Sitting there was making her tired, as well, and she knew she'd better move or end up zoned out herself. Letting Keith's hand go, she stood up, stretching her dormant muscles. She moved past Reuben over to the window, looking out at the lights beyond. They were only on the sixth floor, but she could still see quite a lot of the town. There were a few cars passing by, their headlights cutting a path through the pre-dawn darkness. Her gaze fixed on a moving sign just east of the hospital: a coffee cup pouring its neon contents into infinity. She was so entranced watching it, that she almost didn't hear Keith's querulous moan.  
  
She whirled. He was trying to lift his head off the pillow, but failing at the attempt. She dashed to his side.  
  
"Keith!" she cried breathlessly, trying not to disturb Reuben.  
  
Another moan. "Wh…where am I? What's going on?"  
  
"You're in the hospital, darling. You're safe, now." Shirley leaned down by him, petting his head.  
  
He blinked, staring up at her. His expression softened. "Mom?" It was if he finally recognized her.  
  
"Yes, honey, I'm here." Shirley could feel the tears sliding down her face.  
  
"What happened? My shoulder hurts…and my leg…"  
  
"Don't you remember, Keith? You were shot."  
  
The memory must have been buried, because it took him a moment. He closed his eyes, shuddering. "Yeah," he said softly. "They…stole my bike…and…" His words were beginning to fade, and Shirley just kept petting his head as he drifted away from her once more.  
  
She swallowed back more tears. "Who did this to you, Keith?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. She didn't get one, anyway. He was out.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Laurie was shocked. The last time she saw her brother, he was fooling around on his guitar without a care in the world. Then he got on that idiotic motorcycle.  
  
Now, here he was in a hospital bed, his leg in a cast from his knee to his toes, bruises gracing his delicately featured face, and his arm in a sling because of a bullet in the back. She was more than shocked; she was numb.  
  
Shirley was taking a welcome break from her vigil at Keith's side, and Laurie had hesitantly volunteered to relieve her mother. Keith had been sleeping fitfully, Shirley explained, and although he seemed confused at times, he seemed aware of his surroundings. As long as there was a familiar face to greet him when he awakened, he would be calm. He hadn't talked much of the shooting or the circumstances surrounding it, but then again, Shirley surmised that he was just blocking it out for now, which was fully understandable.  
  
Thus, Laurie was now alone with her brother, still feeling a tiny bit angry at him for worrying them, yet loving him with all of her heart.   
  
He was sleeping again, thankfully, and Laurie leafed through a magazine, trying not to peek at him between pages. It was hard not to; he looked so pitiful.  
  
He whimpered and she looked up, startled. It was a false alarm; and she sat back in the chair, glad and sad at the same time. As much as she didn't want to have to deal with it, she did want him to at least wake up.   
  
Going back to her magazine, Laurie tried to concentrate on the article on the page in front of her. Suddenly he cried out, bringing her to her feet.  
  
He was trying to sit up in the bed, his eyes wide with fear, and she dropped the magazine, putting both hands on his chest. "Lie down, Keith…it's okay…you're okay," she soothed, her heart racing from the initial scare.  
  
She managed to get him back down onto the pillow, one hand remaining on his chest, the other stroking his forehead.  
  
He swallowed, looking up at her. "Laurie…" he said hoarsely.  
  
She smiled gently. "I'm here, honey…did you want something?"  
  
He shook his head, closing his eyes. They flew open again. "I…I was dreaming…they shot me…"  
  
Laurie frowned. "Who did it, Keith? Who shot you?"  
  
"The…men in the car…they followed me…" he swallowed, breathing hard. This wasn't easy. His shoulder was throbbing.   
  
"What men, Keith? What did they look like?" Laurie prodded him on, inwardly wishing her mother were here.  
  
He didn't answer. He was too drained. He shook his head, empty, the tears forming in his eyes. It was so hard!  
  
Laurie petted his forehead, swallowing back a trail of tears herself. "It's okay, honey…just rest, she told him softly, still caressing his face as he closed his eyes again. Darn it, where was Mom?  
  
And, just like magic, Shirley appeared. Was it just Laurie, or did Mom have a way of doing that?  
  
"Mom…" Laurie sounded distressed.  
  
Shirley lost her tired smile. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Oh, he woke up yelling. He had a nightmare about the shooting…he said two men in a car were chasing him." Laurie explained. "He was crying."  
  
"Well, honey, he's having flashbacks…it's all coming back to him in bits and pieces. He's blocked a lot of it out, and it will come and go. We may never know the whole story." Shirley went to the bed, running her hand under Keith's chin.   
  
"It's just so sad…whoever did this to him might get away with it? It's not fair, Mom."  
  
"No, it's not…but if they have an ounce of conscious, it will eventually catch up to them."  
  
Laurie nodded. A sound at the door startled them both. They turned to see Officer Fowler there with three young people they didn't recognize.  
  
"Mrs. Partridge, I would like you to meet Lamar and Ta-mara Jackson. They were the children who saved your son's life."  
  
Shirley immediately ran forward, her arms out. "I'm so happy to meet you!"  
  
Shyly, Ta-mara and Lamar accepted her hugs.   
  
Shirley smiled up at the officer and the other young woman with him.   
  
"And this is Theresa Avila. She's a nursing student who lives in the projects as well. She tended to Keith while Lamar called the ambulance."  
  
Shirley offered her hand. "Theresa."  
  
Theresa took her hand. "Now I know who you are! You are the Partridge Family!"  
  
"Yes!" Shirley laughed.  
  
Theresa put her arms around the Jackson children. "I am sorry I didn't recognize your son right away…he looked familiar to me, but I couldn't remember from where." She smiled. "And, no offense, but your music isn't exactly played a lot in our neighborhood."  
  
Shirley laughed again. "I understand."   
  
Ta-mara spoke up. "How's Keith doing?"  
  
"Well, he's coming along, thanks to you children. Would you like to see for yourself? He's asleep right now, but you can take a look."  
  
Ta-mara's eyes lit up. "I'd like that."  
  
Shirley led them over to the bed. Ta-mara went right up to it while Lamar stayed shyly back.   
  
"His leg's broken?"  
  
Shirley nodded. "They had to operate, but I'm sure it will be just fine."  
  
"And his shoulder, where he got shot?"  
  
"The bullet is out…in fact, they gave it to him as a keepsake."  
  
Ta-mara swiped at her nose, starting to tear up.  
  
Shirley frowned, her hand on the girls' head. "Is something wrong, honey?"  
  
"He could have died, huh?"  
  
Shirley and Laurie exchanged glances. "Yes, but he didn't, thanks to you and your brother."  
  
"He was really sick, but I stayed with him. I tried to get the fever down. I even read to him, but he never really woke up."  
  
Shirley nodded, her throat tightening. "He didn't know you were there?"  
  
Ta-mara shook her head, her eyes watering even more. "I wanted him to see me, to let him know that I was there, but he didn't."  
  
"Oh, honey, I'm sure he knew he was being taken care of. You were like his guardian angel." Laurie interjected.   
  
Ta-mara looked up, sniffling. "You think so?"  
  
"Of course. That's why he kept fighting. He knew someone was there watching over him." Shirley gave her another small hug. "Thank you again. I don't know how I'll ever repay you," she said, looking at Lamar and Theresa as well.   
  
"It's amazing…you took a stranger and helped him out. Not many people would do that," Laurie said, taking Keith's hand as she stood by the bed.  
  
"In our neighborhood, we all stick together. If a brother or sister is hurt, then we all hurt. He was our brother. For a little while, anyway," Theresa said proudly.  
  
Swallowing a lump in her throat, Shirley hugged her. "Thank you," she whispered.  
  
Officer Fowler stepped forward. "You kids ready to go home, now?"  
  
"You're taking us home, too?" Lamar rolled his eyes. "You shoulda seen everybody's faces when he pulled up in front of our building. They thought it was a raid."  
  
Shirley and Laurie laughed, grateful for the diversion.   
  
"Officer, if you don't mind, I would be honored to take them home," Shirley said.  
  
"In your bus?" Theresa looked very interested.  
  
"No," Shirley smiled. "I have my station wagon with me today. Although, you're welcome to come over anytime for a ride."  
  
"Cool," Theresa said approvingly. "You would like their bus, Lamar. It's painted all these wild colors."  
  
Laurie grinned. "You sure know a lot about us."  
  
Theresa bowed her head, a little embarrassed. "Well, I like a lot of different kinds of music, and yours just happens to be one of them. But if I had known that was Keith Partridge I was icing down…"  
  
Laurie's eyebrow went up. "Icing down?"  
  
"For the fever." Ta-mara's eyes remained on Keith. "But he was so hot, the ice just melted before it cooled him off." She looked up at Shirley. "Ma'am, before you take us home, would you care if I stayed with him a little while?"  
  
"No, of course not, dear. Take all the time you like," Shirley smiled down at the girl.  
  
Ta-mara eagerly sat down in the chair next to the bed as Shirley motioned the others toward the door. "You kids look hungry. Let me at least buy you something to eat in the cafeteria."  
  
Lamar looked very interested, now. "Hey, yeah, thanks!"  
  
Theresa shook her head. "That was the wrong thing to say…Lamar will eat everything in the kitchen!"  
  
Shirley laughed, putting her arm around the young man as they started for the door. "Ta-mara, would you like us to bring you a sandwich?"  
  
The little girl glanced back. "No thank you, ma'am. I'm fine right here."  
  
"We'll be back in a little bit." Shirley led the group out.  
  
Ta-mara sat on the edge of the chair, staring at Keith, wanting more than anything for him to wake up.  
  
It didn't happen right away, but when it did, she was ready. He stirred in the bed, his eyes opening.  
  
"Keith?" Ta-mara reached out, touching his arm.  
  
His head rolled toward her and she waited until she was sure he could see her.  
  
"Keith, you don't know me, but…"  
  
He cut her off, softly, gently. "You're Ta-mara."  
  
She was taken aback. "Yes!" she grinned, finding his hand with hers. "Yes!"  
  
"Thank you," he said earnestly, his eyes scanning her face.  
  
Tears sprang to her eyes. She petted his forehead as he continued to watch her. "You're welcome," she whispered, and he smiled at her.  
  
The gesture was more than she could bear. She leaned over, pecking him on the cheek as he closed his eyes with a sigh.  
  
She stared at him until he was back to sleep, then adjusted the blanket, her heart ready to burst with pride and love for this stranger who was now her friend.  
  
And she knew he felt the same way!  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
Three days later, Keith was a new man. He was recovering nicely, now. The fever had gone, along with any sign of infection and although his shoulder was very sore and his arm remained in a sling, he slept comfortably at night, without the nightmares or the flashbacks. The only thing that remained a problem was his leg. He'd been to one therapy session, and while he was not able to even put his foot on the floor for at least another week, the limb hurt like the dickens!  
  
He was returning from a "walk" from the solarium, just trying to get used to the crutches when he was greeted by Ta-mara in the hallway. She had another gift for him, a plate of brownies this time. Yesterday she brought him a bottle of 7-Up with a big balloon tied to it.  
  
"Hi, Ta-mara," he grinned, slowly making his way up the hallway, the nurse at his side in case of a slip of the crutches.  
  
"Hi. I made these for you!" she smiled. "Well, Mama did most of it, but I frosted them."  
  
Keith sighed, hobbling into the room. "You're spoiling me, you know that."  
  
"I don't mind. If you don't," she said almost worriedly.  
  
He laughed, shaking his head and easing down onto the bed. "I don't. It's just that…well…you could use your money for something for yourself, couldn't you?"  
  
"It's my chore money and Mama says I can spend it anyway I like," Ta-mara said, watching the nurse set the crutches against the wall, next to the bed. "Besides, I don't need anything."  
  
Keith looked at her. This child, who had practically nothing, was spending her chore money on him. It made him feel terrible. He reached out, taking her hand. "Thanks for the brownies, sweetie. If we had some milk, we could eat them," he looked up at the nurse.  
  
"Two milks, coming right up." The nurse got the hint.  
  
She left and Keith tried to scoot backwards on the bed, finding it difficult because of the awkwardness of the cast. Ta-mara stepped forward, pulling the blanket aside and helping him, gently taking the cast in hand and setting it back into the sling.  
  
Keith winced. Darn thing was aching again! "Thanks," he breathed, settling back against the pillow. "Looks like I owe you a lot, kiddo," he grinned tiredly through the pain shooting up his leg.  
  
She looked embarrassed, looking at the floor, then back up at him. "I like to help. I want to be a nurse when I grow up."  
  
"You'd make a great one! Is that why you come to the hospital so much?"  
  
"Well, yeah, and to see you, too, of course. And to visit one of the kids in the neighborhood. He got hit by a car yesterday. He was playing kickball in the street with Lamar and some of the other kids."  
  
Keith frowned. "Don't you guys have a playground or something to play in?"  
  
Ta-mara shook her head. "Nope. Just the street and the alley way. You know, the one I found you in."  
  
"Wow. That's terrible! That alley would make a great playground. All you'd need would be some equipment!"  
  
"That's what Mama says. She's been after the owner of the buildings to put one in, but he says it costs too much."  
  
Keith looked thoughtful. How awful it must be to not be able to play. That's what being a kid was all about. The Partridges and their neighbors all had Mueller's Park, and it was filled with kids nearly every day. Suddenly, he thought of a way the Partridges could thank the Jacksons and Theresa for their saving his life.  
  
The nurse returned with the milk, and Keith and Ta-mara's conversation waned as they indulged in the brownies. They were as good as any Shirley could make, and made Keith forget all about his leg hurting.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
"Keith, that's a wonderful idea!" Shirley cried when she heard of Keith's plan.  
  
"Right on, big brother," Laurie agreed. "We could help them out and expose those kids to our music at the same time."  
  
Keith nodded. A concert to raise money for the playground equipment was the perfect plan. Reuben had already begun the publicity campaign, and the date was set for a week from Friday. Now, he just had to make sure he was physically able to do it. The doctor said he would probably be out of the arm sling by then, but the cast of course would be on. It wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. He would just have to sit down the whole show and not move around like he was used to doing. He wasn't sure if he would be able to play the guitar because of the shoulder wound, but Danny was always available to do that.  
  
"You should have seen Ta-mara's and Lamar's faces when I told them. They were in awe. Did you know that Ta-mara has never even seen a jungle gym? They only have a few swings and an old teeter-totter at their school." Keith shook his head in amazement.  
  
"Well, I'm just glad we found a way to repay them for helping you out. I just know you wouldn't have made it in the alley without them." Shirley's eyes shone as she pulled him to her.  
  
Keith swallowed, sensing the seriousness of it all. She was right, he knew that. He could have easily bled to death that night! If Ta-mara hadn't have come along when she did….  
  
"Excuse me," came a voice from the doorway. "You the Partridge Family?"  
  
Everyone turned. A plump black woman a little younger than Shirley stood there.  
  
"Yes," Shirley stepped toward her. "I'm Shirley, and this is Laurie and Keith. You must be Mrs. Jackson."  
  
The woman's smile was warm and friendly. "My name's Mildred; Millie. My kids just told me what you're doing for our neighborhood."  
  
"It was Keith's idea," Laurie nodded toward her brother as Millie approached.  
  
The woman extended her hand to him. "You have no idea what this means to us…to the whole neighborhood."  
  
Keith shook her hand. "Our pleasure."  
  
"Your children saved my son's life, Millie. It's the least we can do," Shirley told her, her face serious.  
  
"When they told me what they'd done, I was furious. But then I got to thinking, what if that had happened to my child? I would want somebody to help them any way they could," she grinned down at Keith. "I'm glad I wasn't there to stop them."  
  
"Thank you." He didn't know what else to say.  
  
"Look at you, just look at you in that cast! You'll be walking around just like normal soon. I don't think the hospital food agrees with you, though. Look at how skinny you are. I'd better whip up some real food for you." Millie felt his collarbone.  
  
He blushed. "I'm doing okay, really."  
  
"No, sir, I mean it. The day of your concert, you are gonna have a good old-fashioned home cooked meal! All of you! You can't sing on an empty stomach. Just look at you people, all skin and bones. It's a wonder you even have the strength to sing, let alone stand up!"  
  
Shirley laughed. "Thank you, Mrs. Jackson. We'll be there with big appetites, we promise!"  
  
She started back for the door, shaking her head. "I'd better get cooking, then. How many kids you got?"  
  
"Just five. And our manager." Shirley walked with her.  
  
"Holy moley…that does it…I'd best start when I get home. You people like barbecued ribs?"  
  
"Fine, fine! Whatever you fix is fine with us," Shirley glanced at Keith and Laurie as the two women went into the hallway. There was a look of 'help!' in her eyes.  
  
The younger Partridges laughed, watching Shirley in her predicament.  
  
  
%%%%%  
  
  
  
Keith had only been out of the hospital for two days by the time Friday and the concert came around, but he was managing quite well. The crutches were like a part of him by now, and he could maneuver around almost as well as he would without them.  
  
They hadn't had much time to rehearse, but Keith knew they were ready for a full-blown show. If not, they would know soon enough.  
  
Having stuffed themselves on Mrs. Jackson's delectable ribs and the cobs of corn and the hominy grits, the Partridges gathered back of the huge makeshift stage in the very alley where Keith's life had nearly ended 18 years after it had begun. The crowd was a culturally mixed group: blacks, whites, latinos, asians. It was one of the most diverse crowds to which they would ever play, and it was wonderful to see everyone together, as Theresa put it, as not only a neighborhood, but a brother and sisterhood.   
  
"Ready?" Reuben joined them, still a little bit of barbecue sauce on the corner of his mouth.  
  
"Think so. Let me check my hair." Keith bent down, looking into the bus's rearview mirror.  
  
"Oh, come on, Keith, your hair's fine. You've gotta go ahead of everybody or you'll never get on the stage!" Danny whined.  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Keith started moving forward, crutches in place.  
  
Ta-mara walked up to him. "Wait, I have another present for you," she said, her eyes sparkling.  
  
"Another one? Ta-mara, I told you, spend your money on yourself!" Keith shook his head.  
  
She bit her lip shyly. "This didn't cost anything." She coaxed him down to her level with her forefinger.  
  
He leaned down and she threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek. "Good luck."  
  
He grinned, hugging and kissing her back. "Thanks. That was the best present, yet."  
  
She giggled, turning as he once again steadied the crutches. Looking at his family, he nodded toward the stage. "What are we waiting for? We have a show to do!" His grin was really wide, now.  
  
Ta-mara blew him another kiss as he headed for the stage. She didn't know if he caught it or not, but she did know one thing: Keith Partridge had a way of making a girl want to fly!  
  
  
%%THE END%%  
  
  



End file.
